Welcome to The Singles Bar, a review series focused on new single and song releases.

The velvety sunset rides high and low at the same time. Don’t ask how it’s possible, but 88 Palms know what that means. Their song “Hollywood Son” is baked in the old school, marinated overnight for good measure, and harkening to the golden era of Hollywood, in much the same way Lana Del Rey‘s languid spirit is something from a bygone era. Ria Bouttier’s voice is sublime, curving around the relaxed fit of the production, built by bandmate Morgan Wiley. It twinkles before vanishing into the shadows: even when you can’t see it, it’s always there, an ominous feeling that makes your skin crawl. “My baby loves me when I put on a show,” Bouttier smooth talks, over groovy and thickly trembling guitars, which only peek out when necessary. Otherwise, the production is so somber and chill, you forget it’s there.

But it’s sticky sweat drips from frayed ends, shape-shifting and wiggling into your eardrums to nestle down for midnight hour. The moon is silver and striking overhead. You get magnetized by 88 Palms, and no one will blame you. They’re damn near unstoppable. “Hollywood Son,” tempered to leave you somewhat angsty, your eye sockets bulging and your brain matter scattered on the floor, is a supple sampling of the pair’s new EP, Love Safari, out tomorrow (May 25). On the song, Bouttier promises, in true rockstar fashion, “It’s a bit more laid back, some sun-soaked slow motion on the beach. [It’s] an ode to some of my favorite young sons of the old Hollywood guard. A distant memory of a white 1968 Buick convertible cruising through the Palm Spring deserts after a debaucherous night at the Chateau. Lusting after a young guy, covered in tattoos, crooning on stage, playing guitar in a dimly lit bar in LA.”

“Hollywood Son” is a silver-cast film noir, soaked in wine and iced to perfection. Take a gulp, and don’t question it.

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